


Intermission

by strawberriesandtophats



Series: Insomnia [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Established Relationship, M/M, The old 'distract the Cardinal with sex' trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: They had the best doctors in France at their disposal. And it wasn’t enough.
Relationships: Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu/de Tréville (Trois Mousquetaires)
Series: Insomnia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868152
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	Intermission

They had the best doctors in France at their disposal. And it wasn’t enough.

Richelieu didn’t just look tired, his face pale and the bags underneath his eyes verging on black. He looked like a soldier that could only make his body move because that was the only way he could one day reach a safe spot to rest.

The pace that he’d been working at was nothing short of terrifying, spending hours writing and reading instead of sleeping. A few nights like that was common, but not months. By now, Richelieu’s blood red robes slid slower over the stone than they ever had done before and they were drenched in perfume to cover the scent of sweat and sickness.

Most of Treville’s younger Musketeers had moved on from just disliking him because their friends did it to being outright frightened of him, with his dark stare and hiding his blood-soaked handkerchief’s in his hand as he passed them by.

All things had to end.

Treville’s complaining knees and shoulder reminded him of that every single morning, all through sword practice sessions that became just a smidge more difficult with every week that passed. His scars ache on cold mornings, silver hairs appear in his beard that were not there before.

But they didn’t have to end just yet.

“Cardinal,” Treville said, matching his pace as they walked beside the king, mindful of Louis’s words earlier that morning that something had to be done about Richelieu, and that he did not care what it was if it made the man fucking stop for even just an hour. Half an hour. Fifteen minutes. Ten.

Richelieu turned towards him with an air of displeasure, wrenched away momentarily from whatever was occupying his mind.

“I need a word with you,” Treville said, careful to keep his voice level and serious. And with just a hint of threat in it, reminded Richelieu that he was perfectly willing to shove open doors and argue at the top of his voice and potentially destroy valuable furniture.

“Do you?” Richelieu asked. “I am a busy man, Captain, I do not have time for-“

“You’ve got time for this,” Treville stated with the air of a man that had put logs in a pile and was holding a burning match. “You do.”

The smile on the Cardinal’s face was dangerous, all venom and fast moves. It was the sound of a sword slicing through the air, of thunder screaming in the clouds above.

“Good,” Treville said, before the Cardinal could say anything clever and dismissive. “Let me borrow the Cardinal, would you, your majesty?”

“Of course,” Louis said, having been watching them with that old spark in his eye that meant that he was allowing himself to believe that they were in love with each other.

“Come on, then,” Treville said, grabbing at Richelieu’s wrist as if he was one of the cadets and didn’t yet know how not to get lost in Paris.

“What are you doing?” Richelieu asked, rage shaking his voice. Very good. That meant that exhaustion could be changed into something else instead of just making him collapse in a chair somewhere. “Captain Treville-“

Treville smiled, wide and horrible at him until Richelieu looked taken aback at the fact that Treville wasn’t backing down. Then Treville shoved Richelieu into an empty room, slamming the door behind them both.

Richelieu looked beyond outraged; his entire stance so hostile that Treville was half-expecting him to lash out. At that moment, he did indeed look like a villain from a children’s book, eyes alight and fists clenched.

“There you are,” Treville said, licking his lips. “I’ve been wondering where you’d gone.”

Richelieu’s eyes narrowed.

But he didn’t push Treville away when Treville grabbed at his robe with both hands, pulling him into a rough kiss. Treville could taste the blood on his lips, as well as the disgusting herbal tea when he deepened the kiss.

The silk was smooth and delicious in his rough hands, Richelieu’s bony hands shivering on his jaw and then running through his short hair. He arched into Treville’s touch, clutching onto him like a drowning man onto a raft.

Treville laughed when they parted, feeling Richelieu’s pulse thrumming far too fast underneath his fingers. He wanted to be practical, to tell Richelieu that they should go back, that there was no time for this. But the truth of it was that there was not and would not ever be time for them.

So, he abandoned his quest at counting heartbeats as he made an effort to totally break down all of Richelieu’s defenses, watching as Richelieu’s pupils blew out as he panted in ecstasy as Treville turned his wrist in a certain way, moving expertly around all that silk.

He delighted in the way that Richelieu said his first name, the word barely making its way out because he was breathing so fast.

There was no arguing that they were young, not with Richelieu’s silver hair or the crow’s feet around his eyes or Treville’s deep scars and hands that had been far more agile just five years ago.

And they’d have to leave this room eventually, leaving what was happening now as just a memory to be pulled out on long nights when the darkness was edging in.

Not yet, though.

The present was not anyone’s eternity, everything always changed.

For better, or for worse.

But they’d walk the road together, for as long as they possibly could.


End file.
